Unsteady (The Torqued Trilogy Book 1) Read online

Page 20


  I get this question a lot, mostly because it’s rare to see women mechanics around. Usually I give a smartass comment but this time, I try some truth. “My foster dad, Wes, he worked on cars. I… never had much of a father figure around and I was ten by the time I had one. So I’d sneak out to his shop and watch him work. He started teaching me one day and I was fascinated with how you could take a vehicle that was broken down and needing repaired, and giving it another chance at running. It’s a lot like being a doctor, only these patients can’t tell you what’s wrong. You have to figure it out for yourself.”

  He nods, seeming to agree with me.

  Red and I work well together. We talk on occasion but even the silence as we work isn’t awkward. I keep my attention on the engine, but my head is swimming. I wish things would have ended up differently for me. I wish I would have stepped into this shop, and not that motorcycle shop where I met Ben for the first time.

  The reality is, girls like me don’t end up with guys like Red. We end up with guys like Ben and dream about guys like Red sweeping us off our feet someday.

  “Are you getting hungry?” Red asks, holding up his phone. “I was gonna order a pizza.”

  “Yeah, actually I am. That sounds great.”

  Red turns, looking through a phone book on his toolbox and orders the pizza. I’m in the middle of trying to unbolt the transmission when I hear him talking to Raven on the phone and asking her what Nova had for dinner.

  There’s practically sweat pouring down my face at this point so I strip my flannel off leaving me in just a midriff camisole tank top. When I set my flannel on the bench behind me so I don’t get any grease on it, I notice Red isn’t talking anymore.

  He’s staring at me. Only his eyes are nowhere near my face. He scans the small peek of my tattoo on my side, and then my breasts that are on display for him. More than likely, my nipples are hard.

  Damn it.

  When I see the heated hunger in his, I’m excited to see he’s attracted to me. I always knew he liked what he saw. I felt his erection against me that first damn day. But now we’re alone and there’s certainly more here than just attraction.

  Shaking his head, I can tell he’s attempting to focus on his sister talking, and not me.

  Turning around, my heart pounds as he comes up behind me, his breath near my ear. “You know this isn’t a strip club, right?”

  I keep my eyes on the engine and then run my fingers through my hair and gather it up to put it in a ponytail so it’s off my neck. “What can I say, engines make me hot.”

  “If that’s the case, I got one you could look at,” he teases.

  My voice dips lower. “Is that the best line you’ve got? I bet you got ladies lined up around the block with moves like that.”

  “Lenny.” His words are low and raspy as he watches the movements of my neck when I swallow. He knows I’m nervous around him. “I don’t need moves to pick up women.”

  “You’re right.” I look up at him. An uninvited sensation of lust snakes up my thighs. “You don’t.”

  He gives me that relaxed grin and hands me a beer. “Want one?”

  I know what happens when I start drinking with him, but I take it anyway.

  “Pizza will be here in like ten minutes. They’re just down the street.”

  Stepping back from the engine, I take the beer from his hand, our fingertips grazing in the process. A jolt of excitement shoots through me when we touch and I know he feels it too, because he backs up a step and creates a little more space between us.

  I’m about to say something, probably inappropriate when someone knocks at the door and Red casually steps back.

  As soon as his back is turned, I want to wash my mouth out for the dumb shit I keep saying. Jumping up and down, I shake out my hands and try to clear my head. “Get yourself together,” I whisper, reminding myself his innocent flirting means nothing.

  There’s silence between us, the sounds of air tools filling the shop. When the pizza arrives, Red opens the shop door to pay for it.

  He returns a moment later, a white pizza box in hand and sets it on his toolbox. He tosses his wallet next to it. Gesturing to the stool, he grabs Tyler’s and moves it closer. “Take a break.”

  It’s about a minute into my break when I let my vagina talk for me. “This is the best pizza I’ve ever had. Nice and greasy,” I say, with a mouthful. Very lady like.

  Red chuckles, his chest shaking as he takes his second slice from the box and then closes it. “You like greasy pizza, huh?”

  I love his chuckles. I want to make him laugh. Too bad I’m hardly funny.

  Licking sauce off my thumb, I reach for another, giving him a view of my cleavage. Not that my cleavage is all that presentable, but I’m a solid B cup for sure. “Red, I’m a girl who works on cars. I’m pretty sure you know I’m not afraid of a little grease.” I wink, sitting down on my stool. “A little dirt never hurt anyone.”

  “I guess not.” Red smiles, adjusting his position on the stool. He relaxes, leaning slightly to the right as he reaches for a napkin. “So where’d you come from?”

  “Oklahoma.” I cover my mouth as I chew, attempting to be ladylike and not talk with my mouth full. “Though I was actually born in Boise.”

  “You were adopted though, weren’t you?”

  It’s hard to give him any background on me because that’s the last thing I want to do, for him to get to know me and care. “No, actually, Maggie and Wes never adopted me. I was just placed with them when I was ten. My mom gave me up shortly before my third birthday. I don’t remember anything about her or why she gave me up.”

  Red clears his throat, reaching for yet another slice of pizza but there’s an emotion on his face, one I didn’t want to see. Regret for asking. Sadness maybe. “What made you come here?”

  My soon to be ex-husband is a dirt bag.

  I shrug, trying to keep from letting my emotions surface. “Needed a job and a fresh start.”

  “And you left behind?” I don’t dare look at him when he asks that. I can’t because I know my answer is going to be a lie. And I don’t want to look at him when I do it.

  Of course he’d ask this. “Nothing.”

  He nods and then reaches for a napkin to wipe his hands off. “I have a confession to make.”

  My heart races. Shit… what could he possibly confess? That he has feelings for me? That he wants to kiss me? That he wants to fuck me on his toolbox? Honestly, all those are things I’d agree with, but shouldn’t happen.

  “Um, Red, listen—”

  “I called your old boss, Eric.”

  I stop immediately, as does my breathing. He did what? “I’m sorry, you what?” I’m pretty sure my mouth is hanging open.

  “Last week when you started, I pulled your paperwork and called your old boss.” Fucking shit, what if he saw that tax form and knows I’m married?

  “Why would you do that, Red?” I scowl at him, knowing he had every right to call him, but still. “I’ve proven myself to you over and over again this past week. Why would go behind my back and call Eric?”

  “Look, Lenny.” He drops his eyes to the floor, crossing his arms over his chest. “You may have a pretty face and a great ass, but no one is working in this garage without some kind of professional reference. I had to know you were as good as you say you are. It’s no big deal.”

  No big deal? Is he crazy? Well, I mean I get why he called, but still.

  I look at him expectantly for a moment, and then huff out a breath. “And? What did he say?”

  “He spoke very highly of you. Said you were one of his best and he was pissed when you left town and called him from a payphone to say you weren’t coming in. Although he was glad to hear that you were okay.”

  “Oh. Well, he was a good guy. Always looking out for everyone.” I stare down at the pizza in my hand, half eaten, and I’m suddenly not hungry anymore. I wanted so badly to leave Oklahoma behind and never think about it again. Why can�
�t I have that?

  “So, did you tell him where you were calling from?”

  Red stares at me for a moment as if contemplating how he wants to answer the question. Rubbing his thumb across his lower lip, he shakes his head. “No. I didn’t really think about it at the time, but he was happy to know you were okay. He didn’t even ask where you were.”

  That sounds like Eric. He probably didn’t ask because he didn’t want to have to lie to Ben, should he come looking for me. And I know he probably did come looking for me.

  “Tell me about Nevaeh,” I blurt out, wanting to change the focus from me to him as I reach for my beer.

  Red shrugs and places his hands on the edge of the stool in front of him. The action causes the muscles in his forearms to flex and pop. “Not much to tell. We met at a concert and she took advantage of me in the backseat of my car.” I shake my head when he winks. No way she took advantage of him, more like he probably winked at her and he was able to get her to do anything he wanted. “She got pregnant and it went from there.”

  “Were you married when Nova was born?”

  “I asked her to marry me when she was seven-months pregnant. We tied the knot in Vegas three weeks later.”

  “Do you miss her?”

  Seriously, Lenny? Do you miss her?

  Red snorts. “That’s a dumb question.”

  “Sorry.”

  Just when I think he’s not going to answer me, he says, “Yes, I miss her. She was an amazing woman and mother.” And then he opens up with, “I try to take Nova to her grave every Sunday. We take her flowers and Nova likes to leave a drawing for her. I just want to make sure that she remembers her.”

  I can’t fathom what it would be like to lose your wife, that unimaginable, unbearable pain that must eat at him when he looks at Nova knowing her mommy is gone. I can see he struggles with it a lot.

  Standing, I nod to the truck. “Ready to get the engine out?”

  He nods himself, and reaches for the stereo and turns on the radio. He’s probably done with me talking and asking stupid shit. Can’t say I blame him on that one.

  It’s freaking midnight when we finish getting the new engine inside the truck and I’m stretching out my arms from trying to hold the engine steady while we were lowering it in. The action causes Red to look right at my chest when he’s putting away tools.

  “See something you like?”

  Red smirks. “Well, I wouldn’t be much of a man if I didn’t.” His eyes have a frantic hunger in them and I can tell he’s turned-on by watching me. Internally, I’m gleaming because I honestly didn’t think I could turn a guy like Red on. I mean, he’s all hard and rugged. I was beginning to think he can never crack.

  Laughing nervously, I shove his shoulder and reach for my bag on the bench. We both walk toward the door after he locks up, me walking in front of him when I stop. I need to thank him for giving me a chance to do this with him. “Red, I wa—”

  Red’s staring at his phone in his hand and runs right into the back of me and the two of us knock into the door. He automatically reaches out and grabs my shoulders to steady me from falling.

  And then he touches my neck. As he drags each fingertip over my skin, my body ignites at his touch. It’s been so long since I’ve experienced a rush of sensations like I do now, or if I ever have.

  He grazes my jaw with the tips of his fingers, stroking my chin to my ear. I instinctively lean into his touch, soaking up the warmth like I’ve been starving for attention of this kind.

  In my fucked-up reality, I have been. I’ve been starving for attention, love and sincerity.

  I want to believe I can have this, but it would be a total contradiction to what I should be doing. Good thing I hardly listen to my head and my heart rules my actions.

  Red’s eyes have a frantic hunger in them and I can tell he wants to kiss me, but he doesn’t just yet. Instead, he bends down and wraps his hands around my ass.

  He takes a fist full of my denim shorts. “Do you have any idea what these shorts have been doing to me this last week?” The way he looks at me, the hunger I’ve created in him with his steady stare, well, it does things to me.

  “No,” I say, my insides coiling. Closing my eyes as he brings his mouth to mine, it’s only when I part my lips that I remember this is how a kiss should feel.

  He hoists me up, never breaking the contact of our mouths and sets me on the bench by his toolbox. His left hand goes to my hair, the other, firm and powerful, on my hip to keep me in place. With an anguished moan, I angle my head to deepen the kiss. He catches the moan I let out with a growl, exploring my mouth eagerly with his tongue. My breasts crush against his rock-hard chest and I can tell his excitement matches my own. And if I didn’t, his erection when he slides my hips against his confirms he wants so much more than my mouth on him.

  My hands dip underneath his T-shirt, hoping he takes the hint and removes it. He does, and then immediately finds my mouth again. But not before I notice the tattoo on his chest of his heart, the one that makes me think twice about what’s happening here, and what it could mean if I keep kissing him.

  My heart does a somersault. Over his heart is a tattoo. The word Heaven in a fancy script with three sparrows flying over it. A strange pressure in my gut gathers, tightening into a massive knot.

  In a sense, being with Red, right now, is like heaven. Something I don’t deserve.

  Something happens to me when I see that tattoo. I know it’s for her.

  With my hand on his chest, I know what I have to do. I have to stop this. He was right to be an asshole to me in the beginning. I wish it would have stayed that way.

  Our mouths break apart, gasping for a much-needed breath. I stare at her slightly swollen lips and the grease smudges from my thumbs on her neck.

  Thinking about what I want becomes more than thinking. It’s lingering on the edges of my conscience, demanding some sort of attention.

  I close my eyes, her hands on my chest. “What the fuck are you doing to me?” I don’t expect an answer, but I get one.

  “I could ask the same of you.” Slowly, she slides her delicate hands up my shoulders and around my neck.

  She looks at me and a sad smile touches her lips. I’m not sure what to say so I look away like a coward.

  What the fuck am I going to say?

  She flutters those dark lashes and her eyes grow large at what just happened. “I can’t do this,” she whispers, her lips red and swollen.

  My answer to that is grinding my rock-hard length into her, wanting to fuck her through her damn jeans that have been haunting me all day.

  I need her.

  I need to hear her moan from my dick buried deep inside her. Pawing at her clothes, wanting them off, I need the gratification of my skin touching hers.

  Apparently, I need a lot of fucking things.

  I kiss her again trying to make her see there’s nothing wrong with this.

  “Wait,” she whispers

  I don’t part my mouth from her, not right away. I can’t. She stops, her lips barely moving.

  I groan in response, stepping back and looking at her intently. “Are you stopping because you want to, or you think you have to?” I know she can sense the hunger in my words. My need is made even more obvious as the adrenaline coursing through my body causes my hand to shake when I lift it to brush the hair off her shoulder. Yet she says nothing.

  Instead, she watches me, sucking her bottom lip in her mouth, coaxing me forward.

  My thumb drags over her bottom lip. “That’s kind of your answer, you know,” I say, stepping closer. Close enough for her to feel my erection. I’m certainly not afraid of my body’s reaction to her, but I’m thinking she is.

  She inhales before sucking her bottom lip into her mouth seductively. “Because you have to stop. I can’t. You’re my boss.”

  All right. I’ve got two options here.

  Option one is to stop. Walk away and continue as if this never happened and that I
don’t want her.

  Second choice is to kiss her into submission so I can fuck her right now in this shop to satisfy my need.

  Yeah, right. Like the first option makes any goddamn sense at all. Screw that. Here I go again, complicating this based on my own need, or the tightness in my pants.

  But I’m a noble guy and I let her slide off the bench and leave me hanging.

  Truth is she scares me a little. There’s undeniable attraction between the two of us and my obsession with her is growing. She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met, including Nevaeh. But there’s something about her, so genuine and unexpected that I have to find out why that is.

  Closing my eyes, I blink slowly and exhale my frustration, trying to will my breathing into control. It’s a tall order for someone who hasn’t been with a woman in two years.

  Lenny walks away toward her bag and puts her shirt back over the camisole. The flannel was once covering her shoulders, open to the shirt underneath. Frustration clenches my chest. She’s covering herself like a curtain blocking the morning light, afraid to let me see an inch of skin. Disappointment washes over me that she’s covering herself from my view. She’s hiding.

  Lenny’s back is to me when she says, “Oh my God,” she whispers. “What did we do?”

  We didn’t do anything. That’s the problem but thinking like that is me thinking with my dick, and she needs better than that.

  “Lenny…” I step toward her with my hand outstretched, wanting to ease her worries. “It’s okay.”

  “No.” She shakes her head adamantly. “I told myself I wasn’t going to do this. You’re my boss, Reddington. I’m not this girl who goes around sleeping with her boss.”

  She’s right. She’s not that kind of girl and I never thought she was. Okay, in the beginning, I might have, but then I got to know her and realized that couldn’t be further from the truth.

  Nodding, I retract my hand. I certainly never thought she was sleeping around. And I definitely don’t give a fuck if I am her boss. I still want her.

  With a quick intake of breath, her trembling hand covers her mouth in horror, an apologetic expression thrown my way.